


Ever in my Sight, Ever out of Touch

by dinoburger



Category: LISA (Video Games), LISA the pointless
Genre: M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-04-03 17:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21486787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinoburger/pseuds/dinoburger
Summary: I never told you I needed you darling, like a rose needs the rainHow could you possibly know how much?So I reach for your love, like the moon and the starsEver in my sight, ever out of touch
Kudos: 12





	Ever in my Sight, Ever out of Touch

**Author's Note:**

> something short and gay cuz I haven't been doing too much on the writing front seemingly, and I'm also on a Pointless kick rn
> 
> OH I should also mention, the lyrics are from Ever by Emilie Autumn, I've been listening to it a lot lately...

It’s calm this side of the island, fewer gulls squealing their harsh cries, fewer people - really, just two. Out where the ocean breeze almost manages to carry off the stench, and Richie breathes in a cleaner breath than he has in a span of time he couldn’t recall.

It brushes Roland’s dark curls and ruffles the feathers of the crow on his arm. There’s a softness in his beady eyes as he gently raises a thick finger to scratch under the bird’s chin, and it caws to him affectionately.

They’re clever creatures, graceful too. A long shot from the screaming gulls elsewhere, snapping and stumbling.

Richie knows there’s not another soul on this island who could appreciate him like this, this part of Roland who’s so gentle and caring. He keeps these moments close to him.

Richie remembers how they caught the sound of something crying and fussing amongst the rubbish one day, stuck. How delicately Roland moved the debris aside, how gingerly he’d scooped up the juvenile crow when they took it back to his shack. His hands trembled with how hard he steadied himself, trying not to hurt it.

Sitting with him in that cramped little shack, watching him feed it, collecting bird feed with him, raising it to adulthood with him.

If anyone else could see that and know that part of Roland, they’d never want to take it away from him. It was a shame they couldn’t, but they’d never appreciate it anyway, not the way Richie did.

That’s what made it special to him.

Roland lived in contempt of the slander graffitied on the walls about him. As if it weren’t even worth his effort to clean it away. That pride too, was admirable.

He loved in contempt of the community, he loved the birds he raised.

The crow braced itself, and took off, fluttering out into the swirling, hazy skies. The scratches left from it’s claws criss-crossed over Roland’s extended arm didn’t bother him at all.

Just the two of them now.

There’s a piece of metal propped up against the shack, Roland flips over to the unsullied side as something to lie back on and with a few trashbags full of burnt synthetics to rest on. It’s not the most comfortable arrangement in the world but anything that lets Richie get real close, he won’t protest to, despite the wavy ridges poking into him. All else is distant, the colours of the clouds waltzing lazily high above, the far off cries of gulls that are soothingly muted from here. 

It’s just the warm metal at their backs and the quiet crinkling of garbage bags in time to the deep heaves of Roland’s chest, shifting the plastic. It’s Roland’s shoulder touching his, side by side. It’s Roland’s smell, in the lapses the breeze gives him to drink it in. Richie feels these little hitches in his chest when he recognises it.

With Roland's eyes shut, Richie can really linger on the profile of his face, and those soft curls he wishes he could run his fingers through in the stead of the ocean air. If he could have that much more of his warmth, if he could be held with all that love and care by those arms and listen to the deep breaths moving through the hollow of Roland’s chest.

But this is enough for now. Maybe one day he’ll have the right words to ask for more, now that these feelings are so familiar to him. These moments of closeness, he’ll gather like a bouquet and hold near until he’s ready to confess.

But for now, this is perfect. This place is perfect.


End file.
